


Spice

by hannahrhen



Series: Good, Giving, Game [17]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Consensual Kink, Figging, M/M, Mild S&M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 17:07:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahrhen/pseuds/hannahrhen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony introduces Loki to the humble ginger root.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spice

**Author's Note:**

> Adding to the Good, Giving, Game 'verse more for subject matter than for actual narrative cohesion. I mean, if letting someone fig you isn't GGG, I don't know what is.

Loki succeeded in swallowing his whimpers only about half the time.

If he hadn’t been able to hear himself—hadn’t heard those tiny noises emerging, unbidden, from deep within his own throat—he would have known of them by Stark’s smile. Even if that smile was prised apart by the head of Loki’s erect cock.

It was hard to believe that Stark’s mouth on him, that tongue laving his shaft, lips suckling on the sensitive tip, wasn’t the only thing on Loki’s mind.

It wasn’t. His mind was quite firmly attuned, in fact, to his ass. To the—

_Oh._

To the _infernal_  root inside him. _That_  had a good measure of his attention.

But turning his conscious thought to it, however briefly, however reluctantly, caused his ass to threaten to clench, and Loki had to loosen his muscles and let his legs fall apart ever more limply to convince his body not to fight the invader. Not to  _acknowledge_  the invader.

Deviant.

_Devious._

He had watched with curiosity as Stark had climbed into the bed with a knife ( _promising_ ) and that pale-brown, fingered root ( _...odd_ ). The man had folded his legs and taken to—to carving it as he sat at Loki’s side. It was as if Stark were engaging in one of his hobbies, and not stripped bare with hair mussed, skin shining with a layer of drying sweat. Loki should have suspected from the obvious satisfaction on Stark’s face, but they’d already fucked once that night, and Loki was being sloppy.

Relaxed.

 _Relaxing_ —keeping his body open and calm—had come so easily, then.

He’d rolled onto his side, curious, as the sharp scent reached him and the root began to take a particular shape under Stark’s careful efforts. At his question—yes, he’d finally asked, damn his curiosity—Stark’s pleasure had only increased.

“Ooh, something you’ve never done before, then?” He held the root up to examine it, and Loki suddenly had a sense of where it would go, but not yet in whom. “I had it done to me once, and it's ... It's interesting." He turned it in his hand, frowning critically before his expression brightened. "Let’s just say—I’ve never met anyone who has more of an ass fetish than you.” Confirmation, then, and Stark returned to his task, just peeking at Loki once or twice out of the corner of his vision. “Having it spanked, having it fucked, fingered … and there is no one who loves your tight hole more than I do, I probably don’t need to tell you.”

Loki got a merry wink after that. _Arrogant son of a—_

“So I wanted to see—” Tony carved off one final piece with a flourish, and, yes, that was an expert job. “—how you would feel about figging,” At Loki’s eyebrow, Stark continued, holding the root out by the uncarved, wide base for examination. The middle part of the—toy?—was curved narrow, with a fat, peeled bulb at the end. Every exposed surface was glistening. Stark turned it carefully in his hand, noticeably avoiding the skinned surfaces. “This is ginger. You’ve probably eaten it. But this time, I want it in you.” He lowered his hand, and Loki turned his attention toward Stark’s encouraging tone. “While I’m sucking your cock.”

Oh, that would— _yes._

He made a pleased sound of agreement. After all, even if Loki weren’t a more-than-willing partner for Stark’s perversions, the second half of the proposal was persuasion enough.

Later, Loki realized:  _He should have asked more questions._

Stark had pushed him onto his back, to start, folding Loki's knees up to his own chest, and slowly, carefully slotted that root between his buttocks, nudging it into his hole. Loki himself bore down to help accept it—complicit in his own torment, he realized later. Stark’s machinations left out a wide base so it wouldn’t disappear inside, and then … he acted as if he’d forgotten about it.

Loki at first had just felt a familiar intrusion, as Stark released his legs and let them frame him, as Stark had gotten to work on Loki’s cock. It was pleasant enough; the man was perceptive in recognizing his bedmates' needs and wants, and Loki did so enjoy being penetrated. Indeed, in his lifetime, Loki had had more objects in his ass than Stark could conceive of, including ones he planned to introduce to the man some day.

But then … then the sensation had— _oh!_ —begun, just a slight tingling around his rim as Loki shifted and found the best position to accommodate both the plug in his ass and Stark’s slow-moving mouth.

It had been the moment when Stark’s lips had closed over him, tongue gently working up his foreskin, and then one tiny little suckle—

Loki had clenched, couldn’t help himself, and then he had gasped.

Oh.

_Oh!_

He was already breathing harder, unable to hide his surprise, when Tony pulled off and offered a smug grin. “That’s figging, baby.” And Loki could have kicked him, right in that face, but he was trying very, very hard not to move. Stark sat up on his knees. “Whenever you tighten up, it’s just gonna get even more hot, right there, where you are already so sensitive.” Then the man had the audacity to run a finger over the base of the root—to wiggle it a bit as Loki fought the urge to squirm.

"So. Try not to tighten up."  

Obviously satisfied, and shooting one last knowing smirk, Stark lowered himself back to his hands, his knees framed by Loki’s own. Loki watched with wide eyes as Tony dipped his head back down—as he extended his tongue to tease the swollen head of Loki’s cock, to play with the retracting foreskin. It was perfect pleasure, enough that it quelled Loki's urge to rebel—but …

Oh. The root was beginning to taunt him. To punish his lack of control.  _Damn his lack of control._  Loki tried to spread his legs further without engaging the muscles of his buttocks, and he made a little noise of outrage when Stark pulled off again with a loud, wet kiss to Loki’s bobbing cock. The man, if possible, looked even more pleased with himself. “I wonder how loose you can stay when I’m really blowing you?” Kissed Loki’s shaft again, this time with an open mouth, and ran a hand up to grip the base of Loki’s cock. “I wonder how loose you can stay when you come down my throat, hm?”

And, even if Loki deliriously hissed, “Fuck you,” to stave it off, he couldn’t not clench at Stark’s words—his traitorous ass  _fluttered_  around the root, damn Stark—and  _that_  had teased out the first, humiliating whimper.

He tried to hold them in— _how he tried_ —and he closed his eyes against the sight of Stark hovering over him, their bodies barely touching except where that hot mouth worked his eager erection … That helped, a little, and the whimpers were broken up by Loki huffing air out through his nose (as his mouth was pinched shut, and his tongue pressed firmly to his palate—no, he wasn’t going to speak and say anything he would regret).

It was … humiliating, yes, what Stark had reduced him to. Splayed on their bed, arms out, and legs … legs trying not to shift and kick as he focused every bit of will on keeping his buttocks from tightening around that torture implement and sending licks of flame up his spine and into his—

Tony moved again, taking Loki’s entire length into his mouth, making a valiant effort to reach the base, and— _oh!_ —sucking hard once, then twice, and then again and  _again_  and  _ **again**_ , and Loki’s entire control failed as his legs stiffened, his back arched, and his wicked buttocks clenched no matter what Loki tried, the juices from that devil root supplying their own punishment for his failure. When the heat spiraled up through his core, Loki’s tongue was the last to disobey, but disobey it did, and he cried out Stark’s name as he thrust up into that compelling mouth.

Stark bore down, his own form curving further over Loki’s, his own mouth ever more undeniable on Loki’s cock as he suckled deeply and worked the shaft with his tongue, as Loki felt himself bumping the back of Stark’s throat, and Loki finally, hopelessly gave up the desire to fight his own climax. He gratefully accepted the consequence of Stark’s deviant plan, this perfect discipline Stark had contrived. Loki screamed out his need, perhaps Stark's name, perhaps something wordless and debased, as the rhythmic clenches of his body, the same spasms that forced the seed from his balls, met and welcomed the excruciating pleasure of that monstrous invader.

For a perfect moment, Loki's universe was no more than his cock and his ass and that ... and that humble, harrowing root.

Stark—Stark, who was  _wonderfully_  monstrous in his own right, but would now be even less humble, pulled back after swallowing Loki’s plentiful spill and waited long minutes before the final pulses of Loki’s body had run their course, each one bringing a tiny echo of both ache and ecstasy. Only after did he bring his fingers to Loki’s hole and gently work out the root with little back-and-forth motions possibly ( _probably_ ) meant to deliver a lasting reminder.

Loki considered drawing his limbs back toward his body. He also considered closing his gaping mouth and taking his eyes away from the unfocused spot on the ceiling, but he did none of these things.

He did, however, listen with resignation to the enjoyment in Stark’s voice—the lightness of someone discovering a wonderful secret. One Loki didn’t even know he’d had.

“I think,” Stark said, before he paused, all affectation. “I think … we will be doing that again.”

And it’s possible Loki whimpered one more time.

And simply nodded.

**Author's Note:**

> Heh. Well.
> 
> Yes.
> 
> Um. 
> 
> Find me at [hannahrhen.tumblr.com](http://hannahrhen.tumblr.com), for recs, writerly angsting, and lots of reblogs of Tony Stark hammering things in tank tops.
> 
> And thank you as always for reading.


End file.
